


Lost and Found

by HawthorneWhisperer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Desert Island Fic, F/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 04:20:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4125298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthorneWhisperer/pseuds/HawthorneWhisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Bellamy are virtual strangers headed to a remote island for Octavia and Lincoln's wedding.</p><p>But a plane crash changes those plans.</p><p>(This is like, 25% smut.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found

Rain lashed her eyes and another wave crashed over her head as Clarke struggled to keep her head above water.  Someone was calling her name and in a flash of lightning she saw Bellamy a few yards away.  She waved at him to signal that she was okay and he headed for the shoreline in the distance while she turned back to the wreckage of the seaplane perched on a rocky outcropping.   _Bellamy’s safe.  But where’s Atom?  I didn’t see him get out of the plane._  She pulled herself up to the open door, her muscles shaking with the effort, wishing she’d thought to check before she jumped out of the plane in the first place.

 

Atom was still in the cockpit, slumped over the control panel.  She could barely hear his moans over the thunder and the crash of waves, and the plane rocked crazily as another wall of water smashed into the side of the plane.  Atom was in bad shape and her instinct told her that moving him might kill him, but leaving him in the plane definitely would, so she unbuckled him and pulled him into the water, grunting under his weight.

 

It was easier having him in the salt water but only just--the waves hurled his body at her with each swell and Clarke gritted her teeth as she began the long swim to shore.  She did her best to keep Atom’s head above water but her lifeguard training was years ago and she wasn’t sure she succeeded.  Her foot hit sand and she stood, bracing herself against the breaking waves with her hands under Atom’s armpits.  Then suddenly Bellamy was with her, helping her haul Atom up the shore and past the waves, where she promptly collapsed and retched up seawater.

 

A flash of lightning illuminated Bellamy’s face hovering above her own.  His clammy hands cupped her face and forced her to look at him.  “Are you hurt?”  He was practically shouting, even though it was quieter on shore than out in the open water.  “Clarke, talk to me.  Are you hurt?”  It was odd to see Bellamy so close to frantic, but a plane crash will do that to a person, she supposed.

 

Clarke wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.  “I’m fine--it’s Atom we have to worry about.  Help me get him out of the rain,” she ordered and Bellamy helped her up.  Together they maneuvered Atom’s limp bulk to a palm tree that gave them a little respite from the pouring rain.  She ran her hands over Atom’s body, checking for open wounds or bones breaking through the skin.

 

As she feared, she found nothing.  Which meant his injuries were mostly internal and probably not not survivable, not without a hospital.  Atom muttered something and she put her ear near his lips.  “Survival kit.  Backpack. In the cockpit,” he managed before his eyes rolled back in his head.  

 

That settled it.

 

“You keep him talking,” she told Bellamy.  “I’m going back for the survival kit.”

 

“Like hell you are,” Bellamy retorted.  “If anyone’s going back to that damn plane, it’s me.”

 

 _Now is not the time_ , she thought.  “Were you an All-State Swimmer in high school?  Did you lifeguard for six straight summers?  Didn’t think so.  Now _keep him talking_ and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

 

The waves were almost as tall as she was as she plunged back into the water and fought her way to the plane.  The waves battered the plane while she ransacked the cockpit and paused to check the radio, but there was nothing.  No static, no feedback--it was dead.  She returned to her search until she found a waterproof bag marked with the first aid symbol wedged under the pilot’s seat.  She slung it over her shoulders and onto her back and dove back into the waves, praying that Atom would still be alive by the time she got to shore.

 

He was, but barely.  Bellamy held the crank operated flashlight while Clarke ripped Atom’s shirt to check his abdomen and pressed her ear to his heart.  The storm started waning but in a flash of distant lightning she caught Bellamy’s eye and shook her head.  Maybe if she was back in the Arcadia ER with her staff and tools she could have done something, but she suspected that even then, his injuries would be beyond her skills.

 

Atom’s breathing was raspy and uneven as Clarke knelt next to his head and started stroking his hair, humming gently.  Bellamy stayed across from her, silent, as the storm moved farther away and the first light of dawn broke over the horizon.  Atom was gone by the time the sun fully rose and they moved away from him without speaking.

 

Clarke collapsed cross-legged onto the sand and Bellamy sat next to her.  “You okay?” he asked, speaking for the first time since she’d started singing Atom to sleep.

 

“Yeah.  You?”

 

Bellamy shrugged and looked out at the small lagoon.  It looked deceptively peaceful, clear blue water marked with hardly a wave.  The plane was still perched on the rocks, the tail tipping dangerously toward the water but otherwise mostly intact.  It seemed unbelievable that just twelve hours earlier they had climbed into Atom’s plane to make the short flight from the island with the airport to the private resort Octavia and Lincoln had booked for their wedding.

 

 

_Clarke stood on the end of the pier, frowning at the stormclouds gathering on the horizon.  “You sure it’s safe with that storm?” she asked._

_Atom smiled cockily.  “Oh, we’ll be fine.  I’ve done this hop hundreds of times.  A little rain won’t matter, I promise.  We’re just waiting on the other passenger, then I’ll gas up and we’ll be off.”_

_Just then the dock shook with heavy footsteps as Bellamy came jogging up, his bag in one hand.  “Should we be worried about the storm?” he asked and Atom snorted._

_“Like I told her, we’ll be fine.”_

_Atom busied himself with the plane while Clarke and Bellamy awkwardly shook hands.  They’d met at Lincoln and Octavia’s engagement party a year ago but  only barely.  He’d come with his girlfriend--a tall woman with long light brown hair and striking eyes--and they spent most of the party talking to Octavia’s friends while Clarke stuck by Lincoln, Finn, and the rest of the hospital crew.  The wedding was going to be small--Clarke was standing up for Lincoln, Bellamy was standing up for Octavia, Nyko was performing the ceremony and with maybe a half dozen other guests.  Most were flying in later in the week, but Bellamy and Clarke had agreed to come early to help._

_“Your girlfriend coming later?” Clarke asked and instantly regretted it when she saw the look that crossed his face._

_“Nope,” he said with a clenched jaw.  “Your boyfriend?”_

_Clarke mirrored his earlier expression, because any mention of Finn made her shoulders tense.  “Nope.”_

_They stood in uncomfortable silence until Atom gave them the go ahead to load their bags into the plane and climb in.  The storm was rolling closer, spattering the rickety dock with raindrops.  “We’ll be there in about an hour,” Atom yelled._

 

“O said most of these islands are uninhabited,” Bellamy observed.  “We should try the radio.  See if we can call for help.”

 

“Radio’s dead.  I tried it last night when I went back for the survival kit.”

 

“Then we should probably build a signal fire.”  He sounded as wrecked as she felt, his voice grating over the words.  “O will be looking for us, I promise.”

 

“We should bury Atom too.  In this heat his body won’t last long.  There’s a folded shovel and a hatchet in the survival kit.”

 

“I can get started on the fire.”  Bellamy pushed himself up and offered Clarke a hand up.

 

She tipped her head toward the plane.  “I’ll go get things from the plane while it’s still there and the water’s calm.  We can bury Atom once that’s done.”

 

Bellamy jerked his chin once and they got to work.  Without the storm the water near the plane only came up to her chin so she held their luggage over her head as she waded back to the beach.  It took her five separate trips before she was sure she’d gotten everything useful off the plane, including an old tent of Atom’s she found stuffed under the back seats.

 

Bellamy had the fire going and a grave started by the time she finished. “There’s a freshwater spring not too far from here,” he told her.  “Once we get this done we can figure out how to sterilize that.”  Clarke nodded and knelt down to help with her hands until they had a shallow grave and lowered Atom in.

 

Clarke wiped her forehead and sat back on her heels.  “Water?” she asked.  The heat was beating down on them and she hadn’t eaten since a hurried meal in the airport almost twenty four hours earlier.

 

“This way.”  Bellamy’s face was pale--they needed to rehydrate, and fast.  Fortunately he was right and the freshwater spring was close.  And it wasn’t just a spring--it was an honest to god waterfall and lagoon.  It would have been breathtaking if she wasn’t so exhausted she thought she might collapse on the spot.

 

Without taking off her clothes she waded in and started scooping water into her mouth despite Bellamy’s protests.

 

“Shouldn’t we boil that?” he asked as he stood on the edge, looking apprehensive.

 

Clarke shrugged and dipped her head in the water.  “With what?  We don’t have any buckets.  It’s a risk, but with any luck Octavia and Lincoln will find us before it’s a problem.  Come on in--it feels good.”  Bellamy followed her in and splashed water on his face, gulping it down from the waterfall and shaking out his curls when they climbed out.

 

Back on the shore Clarke dug two protein bars out of the survival kit and handed one to Bellamy.  He tossed a few more sticks of bamboo onto the fire and sank to the sand next to her.  “They’re coming.  I know they will,” he said, more to himself than to her.

 

“I know,” she assured him.  “There’s a lot of useful stuff from the plane, so we should be okay for a few days.  Looks like Atom camped a lot, but not much food.  Lots of weed, though.”

 

Bellamy snorted.  “I should feel bad that he’s dead, but it’s his fault we’re out here.”

 

“I know what you mean.  Does that make us terrible people?”

 

He shrugged and they lapsed into silence.  The sun slowly sank toward the horizon and Bellamy pushed himself up.  “I’ll get the tent set up.”

 

“I’ll help,” Clarke offered and once again they worked quietly, in perfect sync.  The part of her brain that was still awake wondered at how easily they worked together despite being practically strangers, but then the tent was up and she crawled in and fell asleep almost immediately.

 

_Thunder crashed and the plane shook.  “We’re turning back,” Atom called over his shoulder.  “Storm’s worse than I thought.”_

_Bellamy made a face and muttered something, but Clarke couldn’t hear him over the roar of the engine and the pounding of the rain on the plane’s hull.  The turbulence got worse and Clarke swallowed hard against the queasiness that rose in her stomach.  She clenched her hands on the arm rest and Bellamy reached over toward her but then they were plummeting and she was screaming.  Atom pulled the plane level just as they neared the water and they skimmed across the waves, going entirely too fast.  Then there was the screech of metal against rock and they stopped moving with a jolt._

Clarke sat straight up, gasping for breath.  She could see the outline of Bellamy’s back in front of the tent and clambered out, desperate for fresh air.  “Nightmare?” he asked without turning.

 

“Yeah.  You?”

 

He shook his head.  “Couldn’t sleep.”

 

Clarke wrapped her arms around her knees and stared into the fire.  “Atom wasn’t the first person you’ve seen die, was he?”

 

“No.”  A muscle in his jaw twitched.  “Our mom.”  He offered no other explanation and they fell into silence again.  She shivered despite the warm air and Bellamy draped his arm over her shoulders.  “This okay?”

 

“Mmmhmm,” she replied and leaned into him.  They sat like that, not speaking and staring into the fire until her eyes grew heavy.

 

The tent was stuffy when she woke up next and she wondered how she got there, but then a hazy memory surfaced of Bellamy cradling her in his arms and ducking into the tent.  Clarke frowned to herself and climbed out.

 

The fire was crackling but Bellamy was gone, the sun rising over one of the islands in the distance.  His dufflebag was open and his shampoo bottle was next to the tent, the cap off.  She picked it up and smiled.   _Water.  Smart._  She drank most of it down and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

 

Bellamy appeared from the brush behind the tent.  “Mangoes,” he said and held them up for her to see.  “One for each of us.  There’s more, if we need them.”   _It’s been more than 24 hours and we haven’t been picked up hung heavy in the air,_ unsaid.

 

“Great,” she said with forced cheerfulness.  Bellamy sat down next to her on the sand and started slicing off sections of the mango with a pocketknife.  They shared the mangoes and what was left of the water, sitting next to each other and staring at the blue water.

 

“I should probably cut down some more bamboo for the fire,” he said finally.

 

“I can help with that,” she volunteered.  And just like that, they set about what were apparently their routine chores.  Bellamy used the hatchet to clear some bamboo and Clarke stacked it on the beach and then they sorted through their luggage for anything that could be useful.  Clarke dug out some sunscreen and smeared it on her arms and legs.  She was already uncomfortably pink from the day before and didn’t want it to get worse.

 

Far too soon, they finished. The sun wasn’t even at its apex and Clarke flopped down on the sand with a sigh.   The waiting was frying her nerves and she suspected Bellamy felt the same. He sat down next to her and stared out at the water.  “So what happened with Finn?” he asked.

 

Clarke looked at him in surprise.  “That’s blunt.”

 

“We’re stranded on a deserted island, princess.  Might as well get to know each other.  Although I do already know that I’m in the presence of an All-State swimmer and a lifeguard for, what was it, five summers?” he said with a wry smile.

 

“Six,” she corrected with a smile.  “Sorry about that, by the way.  Things were crazy and--”

 

“It’s fine,” he interrupted.  “You wanted me to know.  And really, I’m impressed,” he said, failing to hold back his laughter.  Clarke cracked and started laughing with him.  It felt good to let go after a grim day and a half. Besides, his smile was infectious.

 

Eventually she calmed down.  “You really want to know what happened with Finn?”  

 

“If you want to tell me,” Bellamy said seriously.

 

Clarke leaned back on her elbows and sighed.  “Not much to tell, really.  We were together for maybe six months and then his girlfriend came by to surprise him.  I didn’t know about her, she didn’t know about me, and now it’s over.”

 

Bellamy let out a low whistle.  “That’s rough.”

 

“You’re telling me.  What happened with your girlfriend?”

 

“She got a postdoc at a lab in France.”

 

“That’s it?  Those are what, one, two years?  You guys seemed...happy.  Why end it over that?”

 

“It’s a three year position, actually.  And it wasn’t just that.  She wants--she likes adventure.  She doesn’t ever want to live in one place for too long, and she didn’t want kids, and...I don’t know.  We moved a lot as kids and I don’t want to keep doing that, and...it just wasn’t going to work.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Clarke said softly.

 

“It is what it is,” he replied.  “We broke up just after O’s engagement party, actually.”

 

“Us too,” Clarke admitted.  “And then I ended up back with my college ex for awhile.  I knew it was a bad idea, but she was there and I was upset.”  Clarke carefully watched Bellamy out of the corner of her eye.  This was it--the creeper test.  Far too many guys responded to her bisexuality with undisguised excitement or a blatant request for a threesome.

 

Bellamy just watched the bay impassively.  “But that’s over?”

 

“Yeah.  For good.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Good?”  Clarke raised an eyebrow.

 

“Good to know, I mean.”  He smiled disarmingly at her and stretched out with his hands behind his head.  “So you work with Lincoln?”

 

“Yeah,” Clarke said and they started talking as the sun hit its peak and started to sink towards the western horizon.  She told him how she first met Lincoln (drunk patient in the ER took a swing at her, Lincoln was the nurse who pulled him off of her and got her an ice pack for her chin) and he told her stories of raising Octavia.  Clarke knew Octavia pretty well through Lincoln, but hearing Bellamy’s stories about her as a little girl was like hearing about a different person.  Reconciling the tough cop she knew with the girl from his stories was a little difficult because she couldn’t ever imagine Octavia refusing to change out of her tutu, even to sleep.

 

Talking with Bellamy was easier than she could have imagined, and she felt lighter than she had since the plane took off.  Yes, they were stranded on a deserted island, but at least he was decent company.

 

And handsome.  She had to admit that played a role too.

 

Later they moved to the treeline to get out of the sun and lapsed into silence.  Bellamy’s eyelids seemed heavy while they leaned against the trunk of a palm tree.  “When was the last time you slept?” she asked, nudging his shoulder with hers. Bellamy shrugged and she sighed. “Come on,” she said as she stretched her legs out and patted her lap.  “You should sleep.  I’ll be here.”

 

Bellamy raised an eyebrow but accepted her offer and gingerly laid down with his head in her lap.  She started stroking his hair until his shoulders relaxed and the crease between his brows smoothed out.  Without thinking, she started humming.

 

Bellamy looked up with her with a quirked eyebrow.  “Could you not?”

 

“Not wh-- _oh god_ ,” she said, realizing what she’d done.

 

Bellamy chuckled and she let out a short giggle before clasping her hand over her mouth.  But then they were laughing again, so hard that Bellamy had to sit up.  “We’re horrible people, aren’t we?” she asked, wiping tears from her eyes.

 

“Possibly,” he admitted.  “But at least there’s no one else around to witness this.”  He tucked a piece of hair that had come loose behind her ear and for a moment, their gazes locked.  Whatever Clarke had meant to say died in her throat as she looked at him, tracing the planes of his face with her eyes.

 

“I promise it won’t happen again,” she said, patting her lap for a second time.  This time she stayed quiet as she brushed the hair back from his forehead.

 

His head was heavy but his hair was soft, and she sat with her back against the palm tree while the sun lowered itself into the water while Bellamy slept.  Night meant it had been two days since the plane crash, but she willed herself not to panic.   _Octavia will be looking for us._  If there was one thing she could count on, it was the Blake siblings’ devotion to each other.

  


Clarke blinked against bright sunlight, momentarily disoriented.  She was hot and sticky, with a heavy weight pressed against her back.  The light  was a strange orange color, and it took a few seconds before she placed the shifting ground underneath her as sand and the tent walls as the source of the orange light as the sun filtered through the nylon.

 

Everything clicked back into focus.   _Plane crash.  Tent.  Bellamy._  It took her a second to remember dozing off against the tree and Bellamy shaking her awake.  They’d crawled to the tent and Clarke admitted she slept better with him close by, he’d agreed, and then--right.   _Cuddling_.  It probably should feel weirder than it did, but the only uncomfortable part was how hot she was, so she peeled his arm away and climbed out.  She tossed a few more pieces of bamboo on the fire, even though she was starting to feel like their signal fire was pointless.

 

To keep herself from dwelling she started their morning chores-- filling up bottles of water, picking a couple of mangoes, and slicing down another big load of bamboo.  Bellamy was still sleeping, but then again she didn’t think he’d slept much--if at all--since the crash.  The bay was sparkling and still, and on the spur of the moment she dug through her suitcase and pulled out the tiny black bikini she purchased for the trip.  Usually she stuck with simple racer suits, but this was supposed to be a  vacation, not laps at the Y.

 

The water splashed around her calves, warm and welcoming, and by the time she was submerged to her shoulders she felt better than she had in days.  The bay was deeper on the side opposite the plane, which still managed to hang on to its precarious perch. and she kept to the deeper side, swimming out as far as she dared and then back until she saw Bellamy’s dark head emerge from the tent.  Clarke headed back and found him feeding the fire, eating a few slices of mango.

 

She saw how his eyes dragged down her body as she walked out of the water and up the beach and if she was honest with herself, she liked it.  She liked the way he looked at her, and she liked the way he talked to her yesterday--open and honest, like he didn’t have anything to hide from her.

 

Clarke also liked the way he looked, his skin getting darker by the hour in the hot sun, his muscles playing under his skin when he chopped down bamboo.  Hell, she even liked the way he looked when he got sweaty, his curls sticking to his forehead and perspiration running in rivulets down his back.

 

She she wanted to get to know him better in every sense of the word.

 

And it’s not like they had anything else to do.

 

“I was thinking of heading to the lagoon,” she started, grabbing her towel from her suitcase.

 

“Going for another swim?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.  His dark eyes sparked and she knew they were speaking the same language.

 

“Change of scenery,” she shrugged.  “And the waterfall looked nice.”

 

“Mind if I join you?”

 

“Not at all,” Clarke replied with a smirk.

 

Bellamy fell into step beside her as they navigated their newly created trail to the lagoon.  Clarke’s bare foot caught on a vine and she stumbled, but Bellamy reached out and grabbed her waist before she toppled over.  His hands were warm and his chest pressed against her shoulder and she didn’t really want him to let go, but there was no reason for him to stay like that.

 

Clarke felt herself blushing as the lagoon appeared so she broke away from Bellamy and dove in from the side.  She surfaced just in time to see Bellamy wading in on the other end.  Just a few strokes took her to the waterfall where the lagoon was much shallower and she stood, letting the cold water beat down around her shoulders.

 

Clarke tipped her head back, relishing the break from the steamy heat.  She felt Bellamy step beside her under the water and slowly glide his hands to the small of her back.  He pressed close to her, shielding her from the spray.  She slipped her own hands around his waist and met his lips with hers.  Bellamy’s mouth was hot compared to the cool water as he steered them out from under the waterfall, pinning her to the rock behind her.

 

Clarke gasped when Bellamy started dragging his lips down her throat and wrapped her arms around his neck, desperate for better leverage.  She could feel him growing harder against her stomach and his lips were leaving trails of fire wherever they touched, from the hollow of her her clavicle to the valley between her breasts.  She tangled her fingers in his soft dark hair and tugged him up to kiss her again, needing to sink her teeth into his full lower lip and hear him groan in response.

 

Bellamy kept his hips against her and brought one hand to her breast, thumbing across her nipple through the wet fabric of her bikini top.  Her skin tightened and she arched into his touch, wanting more.  His other hand stayed on her hip, digging into the soft flesh there, and he pressed his forehead to hers while his fingers slipped inside her bikini and cupped her breast again.  “Bellamy, please,” she whispered, breaking their silence.  He hitched her legs up around his waist and slid his hands under her thighs to keep her supported out of the water as he walked them back toward a broad, flat rock.  The water cascaded over them briefly but Clarke barely noticed, too lost in the way it felt when his tongue brushed against hers,

 

The rock was warm under her bare skin, the sun shining down through a break in the canopy on them.  Only her feet still dangled in the water as she sat on the rock with him between her knees.  Clarke pressed kisses down the side of his neck while his fingers danced up and down her spine.  He fiddled with the knots on her bikini top until they came loose and he pulled it away.

 

Bellamy tilted her back slightly so he could cover her clavicle with wet, hot kisses and move down to the swell of her breast.  Clarke keened when he drew her nipple into his mouth and worried it with his teeth, nibbling gently while she arched her back.  Bellamy swirled his tongue around her pebbled nipple and a pang of arousal shot through her so fiercely she found it difficult to catch her breath.

 

He pulled back and looked her in the eye.  “I don’t have any condoms,” he admitted, his dark eyes soft and piercing at the same time.  

 

“Me either.” Clarke captured his mouth for another kiss.  “But I was tested three months ago and haven’t been with anyone since, and I’ve got an IUD.”

 

“Two months ago, and same.”

 

“You have an IUD?” Clarke teased, which caused Bellamy to attempt a frown.

 

“I haven’t been with anyone in two months.  Longer, actually, but that’s not the point, is it?” he clarified, and Clarke drew him back to her for a long, slow kiss.

 

“I’m okay with this if you are,” she managed finally.

 

“I am,” he mumbled against her lips and gently pressed her back until she lay flat on the rock.  Bellamy made quick work of her bikini bottoms and trailed his fingers up her calves and over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.  He teased her for awhile, nipping at her hipbone and kissing the juncture of her thighs, and just when she was ready to scream he spread her folds open.

 

The first lick was soft and entirely too short.  Clarke whined and felt him smirk against her.  He did it again and again, coming close to her clit but not close enough.  She draped her leg over his shoulder and tried to move closer but his hands splayed across her pelvis to keep her spread open and trapped.  Her fingers knotted into his hair and just when she thought she would go mad he licked a long, slow stripe all the way up her center.  His tongue pressed against her clit and she felt an answering surge of wetness flow from her.  Clarke brought one hand to her breast and started pinching her nipple, an action that made Bellamy groan aloud and press down harder on her clit with his tongue.  But then the pressure was gone, moving lower until his tongue was inside of her, drawing her arousal out while his thumb drew tight circles across her clit.

 

Clarke stopped trying to stifle her cries as his tongue continued to explore every inch of her folds.  Whenever she felt her peak coming he would back off, bringing her to the edge but denying her release in the sweetest way, until she was nothing but a bundle of nerve endings and waves of pleasure rolling through her body.  

 

He put one long finger inside of her and drew her clit between his lips and finally, finally, he stopped teasing her.  His tongue flickered against her clit and her thighs started to shake, his finger moving in and out until she screamed aloud.  Her inner walls clamped down on his finger and her back bowed off the rock, heat spearing through her like a knife.

 

Eventually, Clarke propped herself up on her elbows to see Bellamy looking entirely too proud of himself.  Her chest was flushed and her breathing ragged and she was almost annoyed with him but couldn’t be, because _goddamn_.  He helped her sit up and she wrapped her arms around her neck to rest her forehead against his shoulder, her muscles too liquid to be of much help.  “Back to the beach?” he whispered against her temple and she nodded but made no move to leave.  Bellamy chuckled, his chest rumbling against her.  “Come on, I can’t carry you the whole way and we won’t both fit on this rock.”

 

Clarke nuzzled his neck and made a disappointed noise, but slowly started gathering her now-discarded swimsuit and towel.  “Okay,” she sighed.  “Ready.”

 

“Not getting dressed?”  Bellamy’s eyebrows threatened to disappear behind his hair.

 

“What’s the point?  Let’s go,” Clarke ordered and stood up.  They kept their hands clutched together as they navigated their way back to the beach, water dripping from their hair as they went.  

 

Bellamy spread out one of their towels underneath the palm tree, shed his swim trunks, and wrapped an arm around Clarke’s waist to pull her close.  “Ready to finish what we started?” he murmured.

 

Clarke giggled and kissed him, the energy that had seemed to seep away after she came returning in full force.  She wasn’t done with him yet--not by a long shot.  Her hands drifted up his sides and she pushed him down, settling her knees on either side of his hips.  Her hair hung down and they kissed softly as she felt him grow hard against her center.  She tasted his neck and moved down, scraping her teeth across his nipples and smiling to herself when he swore under his breath.  She shifted lower and ran her tongue along the indents created by the muscles above his hips, his erection brushing against her neck.  Clarke wrapped her hand around it and stroked as she kissed across his torso. He knotted his fingers in her hair and tugged her up to face him.  She ran her tongue along his lower lip and guided him inside of her at the same time.  Bellamy’s sharp intake of breath mirrored her own, and when she rocked her hips forward they both squeezed their eyes shut, overwhelmed by the sensation.

 

Clarke rotated her hips slowly and watched the tendons in his neck stand out from the strain, and then without warning Bellamy sat up and braced one hand behind him.  He countered her thrusts, her breasts bouncing against his chest.  Clarke braced herself on his shoulders and dropped her head back, giving him the chance to suck a red mark on her pulse point.  Heat wound tighter and tighter in her belly and when she felt him swell inside of her she dropped one hand to her clit, pulling herself over the edge just before he fell with her, pulsing hot inside of her.

 

A breeze blew in off the lagoon and cooled the sweat on their bodies.  Clarke kept her forehead pinned to Bellamy’s, lost in his dark eyes.  “Wow,” she whispered.

 

His hands curved gently around her waist where just moments ago they’d been digging in, guiding her movements with a certainty that drove her wild.  “Wow,” he echoed.  

 

Clarke laughed and dropped a quick kiss to the corner of his lips, and then another to his jaw, and then she was peppering his face with pecks while he laughed with her.  He rolled them over and pulled out of her.  The loss of him made her whine but he kissed her again.  “I should feed the fire,” he said ruefully.  Clarke locked her ankles around his waist and shook her head, pouting.

 

Bellamy surged down and kissed her again and she knew right then she would never, ever get tired of the way his tongue curled around hers.  “Fire,” he repeated and she let him go.

 

Clarke rolled to her stomach and rested her head on her folded arms.  “I’ll be here,” she called and watched his naked form walk to the fire and toss a few more pieces of bamboo on their signal fire.

 

She was asleep moments later after he laid down next to her and pulled her onto his chest.

 

The sun had dropped considerably by the time Bellamy shook her awake.  Her clothes were in a pile on the sand next to her and he was fully dressed.  “You’re going to want to put those on,” he said, pointing at her clothes.

 

Clarke shrugged.  “Why bother?  It’s just you.”

 

Bellamy knelt next to her and smiled.  “That’s the thing--it’s not.”

 

Clarke registered a distant buzzing sound and her head snapped up.  “That’s an engine,” she hissed.  She sat up completely and there, chugging toward them, was a small boat with several people, two of whom were clearly Octavia and Lincoln.

 

“It sure is,” he confirmed and her smile echoed his.

 

They were _found_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about surviving on a deserted tropical island so it's entirely possible I have them doing something that would kill you in two hours flat.
> 
> So if you're ever stranded on a deserted tropical island I recommend not drawing on this fic as a resource.
> 
> This fic would not be possible without bleedtoloveher's help.


End file.
